So this is a peak at what I could now be calling holotropic psychology: a psychology moving in the direction of wholeness.

Stan Grof writes that “in our everyday state of consciousness we identify with only a small fraction of who we really are” (p. 2). This is much different from the holotropic states, where “we can transcend the narrow boundaries of the body ego and reclaim our full identify” (p. 2).
In this state,

consciousness is changed qualitatively in a very profound and fundamental way…we typically remain fully oriented in terms of space and time and do not completely lose touch with everyday reality. At the same time, our field of consciousness is invaded by contents from other dimensions of existence in a way that can be very intense and even overwhelming. We thus experience simultaneously two very different realities, ‘have each foot in a different world.’ (p. 2)

This is the new psychology I am envisioning, one recognizing each human as a multidimensional and interdimensional being—far from Freud’s idea of us being bound by the space of an id, ego, and superego. We are encompassing a much grander scale of being in my idea: we are the galaxies, the universe, and live simultaneously in all these spaces.

Holotropic experiences…are the main source of cosmologies, mythologies, philosophies, and religious systems describing the spiritual nature of the cosmos and of existence. They are the key for understanding the ritual and spiritual life of humanity from shamanism and sacred ceremonies of aboriginal tribes to the great religions of the world. (p. 3)

Perhaps, working with the experiences of the holotropic state—learning to live in the space of “each foot in a different world”—is the key to healing through a holotropic psychology. Using the insights, the material, the healing brought back from these spaces is critical for the individual, the culture, and the planet. Indeed, by applying these ideas to life, we can create an “earth hospital” (Mandaza, 2004, personal notes) that is necessary to heal our global crisis on this planet.

And, now, another thought, thanks to Grof: that we are, initially, aquatic creatures. The birth delivery “brutally terminates the intrauterine existence of the fetus” (2000, p. 32). Grof adds

He or she ‘dies’ as an aquatic organism and is born as an air-breathing, physiologically and even anatomically different form of life. And the passage through the birth canal is, in and of itself, a difficult and possibly life-threatening event. (p. 32)

We never realized our true connection with the oceans and the seas, with life that is living within those worlds: for, indeed, we spent nine months, or thereabouts, living as “intrauterine” world—as an aquatic creature. This is fascinating to ponder, considering we spend decades as upright, earth-bound creatures, living by the grace of the air around us and the warmth of the sun. For the nine months or so prior to this arrangement, we live within the liquidy world of our mother’s womb, sustained by her sustenance and the grace of her healthy womb.

Question: As Terence McKenna has written in The Archaic Revival, were plant teachers sent to us humans here on Earth in a way to “teach” us the “truth” of this planet and this galaxy? Were plant teachers behind the Greek Mysteries and all those “advanced” cultures, ranging from Aztecs to Mayans to Egyptians to Atlanteans?

In bringing forth this question, I move in part to the experiences I had in Florianopolis, Brasil last year: one, in particular, in which I realized we have each played all the roles on the planet—Hitler, Che Guevera, John F. Kennedy, Billy Graham, Mother Teresa; the begger, the lame one; the prince, the whore. And I, Gregg Echols, am playing this particular role on the planet at this particular time: a role I have chosen and agreed to play, at this time on the planet. And I have lost myself in this role, so much that for most of this life I have had no idea what I came here for!

The creative intention behind the divine play is to call into being experiential realities that would offer the best opportunities for adventures in consciousness, including the illusion of the material world. To meet this requirement, these realities have to be convincing and believable in all details. (Grof, 2000, p. 283)

They have to be tremendously convincing! It is in holotropic states—or, perhaps, in one of those deja-vu moments—that we are sometimes able to see through this “veil of illusion.” In Brasil during work with sacred ritual, I was able to see what I truly was, a spiritual being. “A good actor and actress can sometimes lose their true identity and temporarily merge with the characters they are portraying,” writes Grof (p. 283). This is what I am beginning to realize—in a few moments, here and there—that we do this in our lives, and to “snap” out of this hypnosis is the greatest thing we can do for ourselves, the planet, and each other.

Yet, as Grof reminds us, we’ve got some great advantages being here on the Earth:

Only in the physical form and on the material plane can we fall in love, enjoy the ecstasy of sex, have children, listen to Beethoven’s music, or admire Rembrandt’s paintings. The opportunities for the explorations of the microworld and the macroworld are virtually unlimited. (p. 290)

I have been reminded of that, quite often in this past year: here in California, during my time in Brasil; this moment in the sunshine of Southern California. This is, indeed, a rich life, and one I do not wish to miss out on!